Sombra's Life After Talon
by psppwner300
Summary: The infamous hacker by the alias Sombra takes her leave from the terrorist organization, Talon. She hacks into their database and finds a lead toward the conspiracy she was looking for. Of course, it doesn't work out too well for her. (WIP. Idea presented by Pikaveeario. Rated M for what will probably be eventual sexual content and language.)
1. Leaving Talon

_Trying an experimental POV from Sombra, let me know if you like it or not._

I couldn't deal with it anymore. Talon. What a miserable place to work for. Or, should I say, _slave_ for. Everyone there was just so...emotionless. That literally was the case with one of my co-workers. She went by the alias Widowmaker, but I just called her Amy. She wore this skin-tight outfit that outlined the pretty curves along her greatly-shaped, slim body, a cula that any guy would easily fall for, and a bit of her boobage was exposed from a diamond-like opening in her chest. I wonder if Talon deliberately made the outfit as a distraction to the enemy, or if it was for their own perverted fapping purposes. That poor thing...brainwashed into working there, murdered her own husband, and was put through so many stress tests that her heart was almost useless in giving her body the oxygen she needed. Her skin was blue as a result. Her attitude was no different. Just kill. I had to admit, she was a pretty damned great sniper, had the patience of a cat, and maybe, just maybe, was _almost_ as pretty as myself, but I just couldn't establish any kind of friendship with her. Being lonely really _sucks_.

It was no different with my boss. I know it annoyed him when I called him Gabe, but that just made me use the name even more. He wanted to be called Reaper, but he might as well be called Raper. Heh. Miserable coño. All he did was grunt, and if he did talk, his voice was so raspy, so uninviting, I cringed every time I heard it. Nothing but bark at me all day. No pat on the back, ever. No greetings. No goodbyes. A short temper. Ugh, why am I getting myself started? He always wore a black robe and a white mask that almost looked like a skull, and he would _never_ take it off. I would've done a little bit of research on him as to what his past was like, but I just don't have the heart, neither do I ever want to think about him ever again. My gloves – they were strong enough to break a beer bottle, but I needed to think of something a little more subtle to get even with him.

It was a few weeks before I left the organization that I dare asked him if he wanted a couple of drinks with me.

"Cariño, you seem like you're awfully stressed out these days," I addressed him, pretending like I was sincere about his welfare. "Do you want to hang out with me at the bar?" I gave him the time and location. I almost thought about wrapping my arm around his neck, but thought better of it.

For once, he actually didn't grunt. I don't think anyone had really asked him that before.

"Okay," he responded after thinking about it for a while, and said nothing more.

So we went to one of my favorite places in Dorado, my mamá's old bakery shop, which evolved into a pub and grill. I actually got to see him in normal attire: blue jeans, a long-sleeve shirt, a beanie hat, and a brown, nicely-trimmed goatee. He had a couple of scars across his face, and I could tell he didn't want to be there for long. Now I knew why he wore that mask. It was pretty awkward trying to initiate a conversation with him when we sat down; a lot of things he was reluctant to talk about, but at the end of our meal I got him to pay for a hotel room for the night.

That was probably the only time he ever got any pussy in his life. And would probably be his last.

And then I left Talon, just like that. Revenge sex at its finest, bebé. Dude never knew what hit him. Worse yet, this was around Christmas time, so he wouldn't be able to find anybody to cover me for a while. Did I regret doing it? Not in the least. In fact, I smile when I think about it. Blame Talon for trying to make me feel that way.

That was about a month ago. I don't really have a job at the moment, but I don't have to worry about money at all. Tapping into the rich folks' bank accounts, with complete anonymity, is like a hot knife through butter. Not like I wasn't rich myself, though. I am a hacker, after all. The best Talon ever had. Talk about bringing even more rain on that Gabe's parade.

I've hacked into governments, major corporations, and even Volskaya Industries. I blackmailed Katya Volskaya, CEO of said company, instead of murdering her like Gabe asked me to. Needless to say, he was pretty pissed when he found out, which probably contributed to why he disliked me even more. Everybody thinks I'm annoying, that I play games too much. Oh well. At least it keeps my blood pressure and my mood in check. Maybe that's why people tell me I smirk too much.

Oh, my name? Just call me Sombra, amor. You'll fall in love with me at first sight. Heh, sorry, I don't mean to brag; it's just that every time I walk past a guy, I catch him staring at my ass. It was covered from my trench coat, but still.

I was hacking into Talon's database. They must have had some kind of purpose in killing Mondatta when he was giving his speech some time ago. And then I wondered why Amy didn't kill Lena Oxton when she had the chance. Talon definitely did have their dark intentions, and whoever worked for them knew that they were just being used, having no idea what the purpose of their mission was, and that if they didn't possess any talents, the organization wouldn't give a rat's ass if they were poor bums living out on the streets. I actually experienced that when I was a kid. That's a story for another time, though.

I was getting deep, cracking through the thick depths of their firewalls, when all of a sudden I felt an ounce of pressure from the back of my chair. Just as suddenly, the chair I was sitting on was slipped right out under me, and I fell to the ground. A bunch of men surrounded me, their thick and swollen fists at the ready. They couldn't have been my old Los Muertos amigos, were they? No. It couldn't be. Talon agents? Yeah, probably.

The funny thing was, I had an odd feeling in the back of my head that I was being stalked.

 _Translation notes:_

 _Cula – ass_

 _Coño – cunt_

 _Cariño – darling_

 _Mamá – mom_

 _Bebé – baby_

 _Amor – love_

 _Amigos – friends_

 _The keyboard I'm using is driving me absolutely nuts. The backspace and left arrow keys get glue-pressed, and the space key needs to get pushed all the way down. I'll probably have some scraps of the keyboard littering the floor after I rage-break it and get a new one. Anyways. Next chapter should be up soon. Sorry if Google Translate didn't get the Spanish right; I'm not too familiar with the language._


	2. In Chains

The last thing I remember was getting a boot to the head. Mierda, why didn't I set up my translocator? Stupid me. When I woke up I found myself chained. I examined my nude body, as well as the bruises that were on my arms, stomach, legs. Everywhere, basically. I also noticed the guy standing in front of me.

"You're such a beaut!"

That Australian accent. His frizzled, blonde hair that made him look like a Super Saiyan. A broad grin that exposed his brown teeth, from what I would assume to be years of him not having contact with a toothbrush – which, unsurprisingly, led to awful-smelling breath. A well-shaped, but also well-torn body that would describe in a nutshell the years of his career in demolitions, and a leg that was replaced with a stick. To my surprise, this actually wasn't a Talon member. I never got a chance to see him in real life, but I did some research on him some time ago because, you know, Talon asked me to.

"And you're such a pervert, James."

He raised a brow at me knowing his name, but seemed to not care. "How are you doing, my lady?"

"I would be a lot better if you get me out of this and my clothes back!" I tugged at the chains to show him what I was talking about, and bit my lip in response to the pain coursing through my arms. Looking at my surroundings, I could tell I wasn't far away from where I was using the computer. What was this guy doing here?

He mocked at me in laughter. "Sure. Just one last thing. Mako! She's all yours, buddy!"

I heard a toilet flush. Out came one hell of a pig, tall and heavy, shirtless, with a gas mask over his face. Mako Rutledge. Oh, Dios…

He jangled his way towards me, his baggy pants jumping on their own with each step that he took. James moved back a little while Mako got closer.

The pig said nothing as he took off his spiked, black gloves and brushed his fingers across my chest. James stared at me with great intensity, a big smirk on his face. Mako cupped one of my breasts with one hand, its sheer size completely covering my tit. He shook it up and down, then did the same to my other breast. I couldn't determine the expression on his face, since it was covered behind that mask, but I didn't really want to find out. He proceeded to finger his way along my body, sliding it down past my hips, and then (you guessed it) my womanhood. I croaked in response. Spitting on him wasn't going to do anything. The fat-ass got on his knees and slowly took his mask off. I couldn't help but gag at the sight; this dude was nearly in his fifties, and his face was ten times worse-looking then the rat's. I'll spare you the details what it looked like; no way in hell you wanted to know. I closed my eyes, praying that this was going to be over soon.

His hands grasped my hips. I felt warm moisture press against my leg, moving upwards, then back down. His tongue slapped across the lower part of my body, going in places he knew he shouldn't dare touch or he would face my wrath, then finally settled on my snatch. I cried and my hips bucked against the chains; this wasn't pleasure, but my body involuntarily let a few drops loose to let him lick. He slapped his tongue like a dog, trying to get every ounce of precum the pervert could get out of me.

"Why don't you hurry up and get this over with?" James asked. "The girl's in a rush, after all."

"Oh, shut up," the pig replied. If there was any relief I felt it was dissolved when the rat said, "Although, I suppose you could also take your time."

The pig got up and went behind me. I braced for the worst as I heard him take his pants off. Before he did what I thought he was going to do, I heard something squirt from a bottle, then a couple of slap sounds. Was he lubricating himself?

"This should make it a bit easier for the both of you," the rat said. "It'll be over before you know it." Yep. I knew it.

"Hold it right there!" A British accent bellowed. Wait...that sounds like Lena!

She blinked into the middle of the scene, one gun pointed at the rat, the other at the pig, and constantly switched looks between the two of them, in a face that tried to look as threatening as possible.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" the rat asked.

"Yeah. Get Sombra out of her chains, then get out of here."

The rat looked at the pig. "You heard her. Release her."

The pig hesitated before he finally slid his pants back up. He undid the chains with a key. I fell face-first onto the ground.

"We'll be on our way, miss." The rat and the pig started to make their way out.

When Lena came to me she didn't look too thrilled. "Are you alright, Sombra?"

"Not really. In a lot of pain right now. But gracias for the rescue! I'll get back at them...shouldn't be too hard to track them down."

She wasn't the bright, bubbly, and cheery girl that I knew, because she would normally smile after getting a compliment. Kinda like myself. "Don't think I'm happy seeing you." She bent over and held me close.

I guess I couldn't really blame her. I stole – er, should I say, _borrowed_ – her BFF's (Winston's) chrono-accelerator technology to make my own translocator.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to get you some medical attention. I'll explain everything later."

With that, I saw the beacon in her chest flash a bright blue, and the next thing I know, I'm in a totally different place.

Watchpoint: Gibraltar.

One thing was for certain – I was glad at that moment that Amy didn't kill her.

 _Translation notes:_

 _Mierda – shit_

 _Dios – God_

 _Gracias – thanks_

 _Many, many thanks for the faves/follows/reviews! Glad you like it. Hopefully this chapter didn't scare anyone off (next one won't be so bad - I promise). Chapters are going to be short, but I'm hoping I can have the story updated at least once a week._


	3. Interrogation

"So...mind telling me a little bit about yourself?"

Jack Morrison looked at me like a typical American military commander would, his cold, steel blue eyes showing no sign of emotion at all, and a well-worn war face. I hate to admit it but it kind of reminded me of Gabe...

I was being interrogated by him in a room that looked a lot like a prison cell. He claimed he was just trying to get to know me, but I knew it was for something else, seeing as I had worked with his enemigo.

"What don't you already know about me? I'm a hacker. I hack things. I come from Mexico and speak Español, as you can probably tell from my skin color and my accent. Used to be part of Talon. I hit the gym three times a week to keep my body in the shape that it is in. I have only about a thousand guys lined up eager to fuck my -"

He put his hand up to interrupt me. "This hacking that you speak of. What exactly are your methods?"

"Why should I feel the need to tell you, hombre?"

His eyes narrowed, keeping them intently fixed on my own. "Well, Tracer saved you. Mercy healed you up. Can't you give me a little bit of information in exchange?"

Yeah, that Angela sure is a miracle worker. She has such a kind heart, that muchacha. Someone like me who came from a terrorist organization, and while she might've held a grudge or two against me, I just couldn't think of doing anything harmful to her, because she cured me right up. I guess I owed my life to Lena as well. Still, a negative response evoked my head...

"I never asked anybody to 'save' me. I don't need anybody's help. I just regret that I didn't have a backup plan. So no, just because you thought you did me a favor, doesn't mean I can just go and spill the beans."

The soldier groaned. "Sombra. That's not even your real name. Even Winston couldn't figure it out. You damn well know how to hide your secrets, I can give you that. Nobody knows anything about you other than yourself. But you know everything about us," he muttered, flickering his eyes to the side. I could have sworn I saw him grit his teeth for a second.

Yeah, I know pretty much every "hero" that was once part of the Overwatch team, from their personalities to their past to their relationships and even to their mental problems. Everything except the dude that was sitting across from me. I tried to see if I could find something, anything, but Morrison had nothing. No social media accounts, no nothing. He was paranoid, like myself. I didn't really know how to respond, so I just smiled at him.

"You could be a very valuable asset to us," he continued. "No, I don't trust you in the least, and for all I know, the implants you got in your head could be detrimental to us. But really, you're the only one who has access to The Eye and potentially break through it. I was hoping that we could combine forces to increase our chances."

Oh. The Eye. I guess he knew about that too. That's the artificial intelligence I was trying to hack into earlier.

The offer was actually tempting. I didn't want to admit that I mostly work alone now; having some company I feel would be for my benefit. It would be nice actually being the good girl for once.

"What if I don't take up on your offer?" I had to ask though.

"Well, I suppose you'll be off and resuming your previous activities."

I was a bit surprised. Maybe Overwatch isn't so toxic of a group after all. I figured I would have to starve in this room or something.

I smiled and tucked my hair behind my ear. "You guys don't seem so bad after all. I think we got ourselves a deal, amigo."

He actually cracked a smile back. "Fantastic. You look like you've gone a couple of days without sleep; let me show you your room so you can get some rest. After that, you can introduce yourself to the rest of the crew. Any questions?"

"I'm guessing there's no chance I can get my suit back, is there?" I was wearing a plain white t-shirt with blue jeans.

"When the time comes, you'll get it. You're not going to go invisible or teleport or anything in the meantime, are you?"

I smirked. "Nope. Can't do that without my equipment. But I really got to ask...what the hell was Junkrat and Roadhog doing over in Dorodo?"

Morrison raised an eyebrow at me, looking surprised. "Aren't you the hacker who knows everyone and everything?"

"Yeah, well, I didn't bother to look them up earlier. It takes time to learn about someone, you know. For all I know they could've been recruited by Talon since I left."

"Yeah, that could be it," Morrison nodded. "Which kind of hurts for us, but, now that we've got you on our side..."

"They won't stand a chance," I completed his sentence and smiled. I changed the topic again. "Is there like, a bar around here for when there's some down time?"

He looked at me, amused. "There's one about twenty miles away. McCree goes there almost every night. Maybe you can join him and make friends."

Jesse – no wait, _Joel_ McCree? That Western cowboy with that lovely accent and can shoot a bullet in someone's head in the blink of an eye? Oh mi Dios! I've had a crush on that guy for the longest time!

"Someone must like him." Morrison smirked as he looked at my dreamy, smirky face. I stammered slightly and only replied with, "Yeah."

"Alright. I'm going to need a couple of days to come up with a plan. You just sit back and relax in the meantime. Let me take you to your room."

"Oh, I've already got a plan," I replied. I then told him what we needed to do to make The Eye weaker.

 _Translation notes:_

 _Enemigo – enemy_

 _Español – Spanish_

 _Hombre – man_

 _Muchacha – girl_


	4. Meeting Joel

Unsurprisingly, not everyone at Overwatch welcomed me with open arms. Jesse McCree – or, should I say, _Joel Marricone_ – was no exception. I happened to stop at the bar at just the right time and found him sitting all by his lonesome, a shot of what I assumed to be whiskey sitting close at his side. I was trying to be as casual as I could with my attire, sporting a long-sleeve purple shirt and blue jeans. I can't remember wearing shoes in such a long time; I was used to the leggings of my Talon outfit. I took my chances and sat on the stool next to him.

I seemed to have invaded his personal space. He looked up from the table, taking his hand off his forehead, and looked at me. He seemed miserable.

"Hey," I said in as friendly of a manner as I could, trying to break off the tension. "The name's Sombra."

He grunted. "Yeah, I know ya. I'd recognize that voice, that hair, and those eyes from anywhere." The smell of cigar smoke and alcohol washed my face. "What do you want, lady?"

"Oh...well, you just seemed like you were a bit lonely, so I thought I'd keep you some company."

He looked at me, bewildered. "Why would I want a terrorist sittin' next to me?"

The bartender glanced at us, then went back to cleaning his glass. He probably assumed Joel would easily take care of me if I caused a problem.

I had to admit, this was one of the few times in my life where I got nervous. "You haven't heard? I left Talon -"

"Now, why on earth should I believe that? Even if you did, doesn't mean you've stopped being that annoyin' hackin' punk who prides herself in gettin' information that isn't any of her business."

I tapped into his file back when I was a part of Talon. Former member of the Deadlock Gang, which brought in illegal weapons and military hardware throughout the Southwestern United States. Got caught at one point by Overwatch. He was forced to either join their black ops division, Blackwatch, or left to die in a security cell. Naturally, he chose the former. He abandoned the group sometime later, when Overwatch was starting to collapse, and didn't come back to the surface until several years later, calling himself a gunslinger for hire. Now he's wanted, for $60,000,000. I wasn't surprised to discover the document mentioned he has PTSD.

"Seriously, Jesse," I mentioned his alias to get on his good side, "I'm only trying to make a friend here. I just joined Overwatch and was stripped of my suit. I can't cloak or anything like that until I get that back. I'm trying to be the good girl, for once. Just ask Jack. I'm helping to bring an end to the Omnic Crisis."

He glanced back at the wooden table and groaned, rubbing his hands up and down his face. "That seems kinda hard to believe, young lady. What in tarnation is goin' on in that techno-brain o' yours that would make you believe we can end that?"

"Peace," I replied. "Making peace with The Eye makes it weak."

He put his hands back on his face again and appeared to be deep in thought. "You're gonna to have to excuse me, ma'am. Gonna need some time to contemplate all this." Awkward silence hung in the air after that.

"Another time, perhaps," I said, getting off the stool and putting my hand on his shoulder. "Pleasure meeting you." No, it wasn't.

...

"Cariño, I'd really like to have that suit back. I can't be of much use without it."

Jack mumbled. "Okay, fine. Did you get a chance to talk to Jesse?"

"Yeah. It, uh...didn't go as well as I had expected."

"Jesse finds it hard to trust anyone. That's why he prefers to go solo so much. Sorry; I'll talk to him." Jack walked over to a locker, input a code, then opened it. He pulled out my purple suit and handed it to me. "You know, we should make another one so that I can do the same things that you can."

I couldn't help but laugh. "You would look so ridiculous, Jack; you'd look like a girl in skin-tight leggings. Besides, this suit is highly advanced; only I know how to use the technology behind it."

He grunted. "Obviously, I wouldn't have it look the way you have yours."

"Yeah, yeah, if you say so, _amigo_. Gracias." I smiled and headed to my room. I stripped myself and headed into the bathroom. I slid the temperature slider to hot and entered the bathtub. As I let the drops of warm water pierce and slide my way down my Latina skin, my resentment for Joel started to slowly disintegrate. I slowly rubbed my fingers against my body, down my arms, down my hips, smiling in pleasure. Eventually, they came to my bush, and I opened my pussy lips.

 _I'm going to have you inside me, Joel, one way or another..._

 _Aight, sorry for the holdup. Going to be honest here, I'm having a hard time trying to figure out how this story is going to roll. Stay positive, though. I should have more in the future._


	5. The Name's McCree

_When I looked down I was holding something in my arms. From the looks of it it was an infant._

 _No...this can't be...my kid, is it…?_

 _"_ _Mamà!" the thing cried. The baby stretched its arms out at me and clung to me. Sounded and looked like a boy, its skin color apricot and body wrapped in a light blue fleece. I couldn't just let it be on its own; I forced myself to bring the boy closer to my chest and hugged him in the cradle of my arms._

 _I looked around. This placed looked awfully familiar. Hell, I think I was in my old apartment in Dorado!_

 _"_ _Is this what'chu wanted?" I heard a man yell. That voice. That was familiar too. My guess was confirmed when I saw the man walk past the corner of the room in front of me and glared at me with fierce, dark eyes. McCree had his teeth clenched, biting hard on his cigar and fists laying at his sides. He looked pissed. He was just in jeans and he pulled the cigar out of his mouth with his mechanical hand, placing it on the ground and stomping it with his boot. The ashes from the cigar spread out underneath him as he swiveled his foot in anger. "HUH? IS THIS WHAT'CHU WANTED!"_

 _The baby in my arms started to cry at the Westerner's sheer voice. I held it tighter to me and kept its eyes away from the source._

 _"_ _What the hell are you rambling on about? I have nothing to do with -"_

 _"_ _You were the one who wanted this, Sombra. Not only are you payin' for it but now I can't even go goddamn bounty-huntin' with this friggin' kid on my back. You ruined my life, girl. The hell am I 'sposed to do now? Why don'tcha tell me your real name? Why do you have to keep all these secrets from me?" He walked towards us, cowboy boots clanking against the tile of the kitchen, fists still clenched and eyebrows crossed. I backed away from him, clutching the kid with all my might. I turned my head around and found the sink._

 _He was getting up close and personal by the time my ass lined up with the counter. He frighteningly stood tall over me and looked like he was ready to do something terrible to me and the kid._

 _"_ _Now, let me ask you again," he said slowly and calmly, breath reeked with alcohol, "Tell me if this is really what you wanted to happen in your life."_

 _I fumbled my hand around in the sink, desperate to find something, anything, that would keep me and the kid away from him. The infant cried louder, my ears piercing at the sound, which made me work my fingers even faster as I felt around the metal base of the sink. McCree's angry stare only made it worse as he started to lean over me. I couldn't find anything. Nada. All of a sudden, the man's hands took a swift and firm grasp on my shoulders. He shook me violently as he kept yelling in a crazed-tone, "Tell me! Tell me if this is what you hoped for!"_

I stood up from the bed and gasped. Oh my God...that was a nightmare. It's been a few days since I met the cowboy, but I still couldn't shake off the way he reacted to me when I met him at the bar. I took a couple of deep breaths, then slowly put my head back on the pillow. I contemplated what just happened when I heard a couple of knocks on the door of my dorm.

"Yes?"

Jack opened the door and looked at me. "How you doing, kid?"

This was unusual of him. "Fine," I replied.

"Someone's here to see you. He's in the dining room when you're ready." He closed the door, then walked away.

I rose up and stretched, wanting to rid my mind of that incredibly horrible dream. I placed my bare feet on the floor and stood up. I strode to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror, noticing that I was wearing nothing but a bra and panties. I smoothed my hands over my bare hips and smiled; I was still amazed with my curvy, pear-shaped body. No woman could look any better. I stepped into the bathtub after stripping myself and turned on the shower head. When that was done I dried myself, applied some women's deodorant under my armpits, and put my camo suit back on, slipping my tight latex leggings onto me, a tank top, and my purple trench coat. Before putting my gloves on I lifted the back flap of my coat and brought my hands to my ass and gently touched my cheeks. I slowly moved my hands up and down the tight curves and smiled once again, then gave them a good squeeze. I stretched again with my hips going backward, then put those miracle hacking gloves on, as well as my belt containing my translocator beacons and tucked my SMG into the insides of my coat. I was going to need to find out sooner or later if Jack has any cartridges that I could use in this. I can't believe he gave all of this back to me so easy. Must be pretty desperate to put an end to this Omnic Crisis that was pretty much going on all over the world. For a moment I thought about using Overwatch to my advantage. No...can't do that. Let me stay on their good side for now. I brushed my hair, then applied some more purple lipstick and black eyeshadow (for some reason there was a fresh supply of cosmetics in the bathroom drawer. No wonder the ladies of Overwatch looked so pretty), then left my room.

Sure enough, there I found Muh-cree sitting at one of the tables at the mess hall in his typical cowboy attire. He smiled at me and said "Howdy," tipping his hat towards me, with his other hand gripping a cup with steam coming out of the top. "Care to join me for a cup 'o coffee?"

I hesitated. Both his initial reaction at the bar and the nightmare I just had didn't exactly make me want to welcome him with open arms.

"What is it, Joel? What do you want?"

He raised a brow at me. "Joel? Darlin', that ain't my name."

"Oh? That's what your profile says."

"My profile? Since when did I have a 'profile'?"

"Don't play stupid with me. When you were with Blackwatch."

"Honestly, while I expected Reyes to keep track 'o some record 'o me, I wouldn't reckon he'd play games and put some kinda false name in there. Hell, I think that name 'Joel' is a reference to some Western actor from a _looong_ time ago. I musta reminded Reyes of him er somethin' and named me after 'im."

I thought for a moment. It actually wasn't surprising that Blackwatch would keep a false identity of each of its members. That probably meant I hacked the wrong file.

"So, your name really is Jesse, then?"

He smiled at me. "You would be correct, ma'am. Though, I'd prefer if ya called me McCree."

I thought I was never wrong. _I thought I had him down._ I hesitated again before I went to the coffee stand and poured myself a hot cup, trying to keep myself busy ripping open a bunch of sugar packets and dumping them into the cup to prevent myself from thinking about my humiliation. I added a bit of cream, stirred the contents, and sealed the cup with a lid before I headed to the table and sat across from the cowboy. He still had that cheeky grin on his face. He leaned forward in his chair and looked around before he began.

"So...first of all, I am _terribly_ sorry for the way I reacted to you the other day. I was in a bad mood and you could probably tell that I was quite tipsy. Jack told me everythin' about you. About you joinin' the team, wantin' to end this Omnic Crisis thing that's goin' on, and that sorta thing."

It felt like a hundred pounds had been lifted off my shoulders. "It's all right, McCree. We all have our bad days."

He took a sip of his coffee, then set the cup back on the table. "Well, actually, uh, that was all I wanted to get off my chest. Glad to hear ya understand. Now, would ya mind tellin' me this plan 'o yurs?"

"Whoa. Hold on there. How am I supposed to trust you?"

He smirked. "Well, you were the one who came to visit me at the bar, yeah? 'Sides, Jack basically told me what you told him. I just wanted to get a better idea of what exactly ya had in mind, seein' as you're apparently the only key to bring this war to an end. See if I could give ya a hand or two."

His southern drawl amused me. I idly wondered if he spoke like that for show and tell or if it really was the way Westerners talk.

"LumèriCo. Manufacturing power plant in Dorado, Mexico, which, ironically, was the place I grew up in. They helped rebuild the country from the terrible aftermath of the first Omnic Crisis, what we Mexicans call 'La Medianoche,' or 'The Midnight.' Of course, the more influential a company becomes, the more selfish and power-hungry it becomes. So I hacked their web site, and discovered the CEO was using the company's profits for his personal benefit, and found conversations between him and the Vishkar Corporation." I then explained to him what Vishkar does and how the negotiations between the two companies should be a cause for concern to everyone. Some details I deliberately left out, like the fact that I was orphaned after the Crisis, and that LumèriCo had some far worse things they had in mind – they actually wanted complete control over Mexico and force its citizens to cheap labor. No way I was going to tell him that, when I barely knew the guy. In the end I told him that LumèriCo's CEO, Guillermo Portero, quickly stepped down from office after I had leaked all the information I had found about him and the company to the press, and how the Los Muertos group was formed to arrest him and his men, as well as shutdown their power plants that were installed throughout the country.

I gave him a lot of food for thought as he rubbed his thick brown beard, appearing deep in concentration.

"So...I take it you're a part of this, uh, Los...whatever it is that'cha called it group?"

" _Was_."

"So, wait. Why ain't you with them no more?"

"Oh, come on McCree. I can't tell you everything, you know."

"Well, could ya at least tell me why you're here? Why you decided to join Overwatch?"

"Well, a couple of reasons. One, it's kind of a favor for Tracer who saved me from basically getting raped. Second, even though Guillermo has stepped down I have my suspicions that he's going to rise up again, somehow. For all I know he could be trying to contribute the tension between the omnics and ourselves. Not just to take control over my country, but maybe the _whole_ world. What better place to be than Overwatch to help bring this thing to an end?" I didn't bring up the fact that most everyone here pretty much hated me, though.

"You...you almost got _what_?"

I saw the slightest upward curve form on the corner of his lips.

"It's not funny, _Jesse_." My solemn voice and stern look was enough for him to easily surrender as he put his hands up.

"Okay, okay, sorry, darlin', my bad. Jack left that part out. Won't ever happen again." He took a big sip of his coffee. "Well, ya convinced me. So what are ya gonna do now?"

"Going to make a trip to LumèriCo. Not exactly sure where the Eye is, but if anything, I bet it's hidden somewhere in one of those power plants. See if I can't hack into it or not. Overwatch is for backup in case something goes wrong, which, more than likely, will."

"Got it. Ya mind if I tag along?"

I smirked. "Sure, _darling_."

He smiled back. "Awesome. It'd be my priv'lege." He stood up and drank the rest of his beverage. "Whelp, I'ma head over to the shootin' range. You ever wanna join me, I can show ya how to use a revolver."

I laughed. "I well-know how to use one, chico. I'd kick your ass any day with one." I actually lied about that.

He chuckled back. "Yah. I won't believe it 'till I see it." He leaned forward on the table, grabbed my hand that wasn't gripping my cup, lifted it up to his face, and kissed my knuckles. "Pleasure meetin' you, ma'am," he said, mimicking the words that I left him at the bar. He let go of my hand and grinned as he turned around and walked away, throwing his brown paper cup away into the trash can before he disappeared from my sights. I blushed slightly at the gesture. Maybe I was falling in love with the cowboy after all.


	6. Chapter 6

_So, I hate to be a disappointment but I think it's pretty much safe for me to say at this point I've given up on this (although, you probably figured that out by now). As much as I love the feedback I've received so far I kind of went into this story blindfolded, not really knowing what the whole plot was going to involve, and some parts of this story are a bit out of place and I'm not exactly happy with the way it's coming out._

 _Anyone who wants to pick this story back up, you're more than welcome to do so. Or, if you have other ideas you'd like me to write, please do let me know your thoughts. In the meantime, thanks for putting up with the infrequent updates on this, and thank you all kindly for your feedback._


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